=7= Yay i got this one done just in time for spring break~ I am a little nervous about this chapter, having not written in such a way before... *hugs Lovi plus* T^T Poor Lovino! *cries* XD Well enjoy and i shall have the next chapter up when i get a chance to write it~
Chapter 3
The sleepless nights seemed to never end for Lovino. He could always hear when Spain returned from whatever he went off to do every day. He wanted to know so badly what the hell that Spanish bastard did to occupy his time to such a severity, but by this point he knew better than to intercept him when he got home in the night. He didn't want to end up facedown into another plate of pasta. Still, the thought of Spain going somewhere, and him not knowing where that somewhere was, was eating away at him. He wanted to know so badly but there was no way he would tell him that.
"Stupid Spanish Bastard," the Italian grumbled as he sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"What about me?" That voice immediately startled Lovino, causing him to pounce in the air, almost falling off the bed.
"S…Spain!" He exclaimed, shocked by the Spaniard's appearance on his bed. Wasn't he supposed to be off doing whatever he normally did since he had come home? Why was he there?
"Didn't expect me here?" He smirked at Romano.
He glared at him, not amused. "Why would I fucking expect you here," he announced in a cold tone, glaring entirely at the floor instead of him.
Spain partially laughed at his comment, frightening Lovino. God! That laugh was so sadistic! It made him tremble. Where the hell had Antonio learned to laugh like that? And when did he learn to act like this?
He watched from the corner of his eye as Spain gradually came closer to him. He attempted to scoot away from him, but he took that as a sign to take his move and pushed Lovino to the other end of the bed, the end near the wall. The Italian's head struck the wooden headboard hard, wincing and cursing as Spain furthered his advances on him, pinning him to the wall.
"Fuck! Spain, what the—" Lovino's argument was interrupted by Spanish lips abruptly pressing to his own. It wasn't just a simple kiss, either. The damn horny Spaniard was going all out, forcing his tongue into his mouth. Apparently, regardless of changing personality, Spain was still the country of passion. He certainly just proved that to poor Romano.
Pissed off and embarrassed beyond compare, he struggled to get the much stronger Spanish idiot off him. He pushed and squirmed around, finally managing to break away the kiss. He was gasping for air, he hadn't let him breathe at all.
Once he caught his breath he gave Spain a severe death glare. When he tried to make another move he pushed him away, he wouldn't have any more of that.
"Goddammit, Spain!" He yelled, face beet red from the embarrassment, "what the hell makes you think you can just fucking kiss me whenever the hell you want?"
Spain frowned once more, which meant nothing good for Lovino. With a somewhat enraged look on his face the Spaniard grabbed the boy by his auburn locks and pulled down hard, causing him to yelp. He then proceeded by continuing his pull on Romano's hair, drawing a knife up to his throat.
"What makes you think you can get away with yelling at me like that? I can do whatever the hell I want when I want. It's best you know your place before I have to punish you for your attitude," Spain's tone was excessively cold when he spoke, sounding dead serious.
He sat there, trembling. All he could think to do was merely nod and agree with him; he was too much of a coward not to.
Spain's face switched from a very disgruntled anger to a harsh smirk. He removed the knife from his ward's neck but moved it up to his cheek, softly letting the blade skim the trembling Italian's skin. He really seemed to enjoy striking fear into people recently.
Romano looked away as Spain teased him with the knife. He was so scared, why would he even do this? If he hadn't been trembling so hard he would have made another attempt to push off the bastard, but then there was a chance he'd be cut by the knife. He didn't handle pain very well so he remained still other than his quivering.
The conquistador grinned broadly as he began to move the knife down Lovino's face, neck, then halting at his chest. Hooking the blade under his shirt, he pulled it towards himself, cutting through the cloth. Flinching, Lovino mustered enough courage to growl at him. How dare he destroy his shirt! He began to struggle under him again, his hair unfortunately still bunched up in the hands of the cruel Spaniard. He cried out again as it was given another sharp pull.
"I told you, if you don't learn your place, you will get punished," he coldheartedly announced, leaning in closer to the whining Italian and bringing his knife back up to his face. He soon moved it back to his chest. Without wasting time he pressed down and slowly ran the blade down Lovino's torso. The boy wailed even louder as the Spanish bastard cut him.
Still grinning, Spain removed the knife and tossed it to the side; his sadistic grin never fading. He shifted further toward Romano's bleeding chest, focused. Setting his tongue on the wound, he began to lick the blood off. As he did so his free hand crept down to the lower part of his body. It burrowed beneath the young man's pants, still heading even lower.
"Stop it!" Lovino finally managed to yell out as the hand was getting extremely close to his vital regions. He was ignored. Instead Antonio rushed his hand to the younger country's vitals, squeezing hard. He let out a low moan and winced. Spain was such an overbearing bastard! His hands were unbearably merciless, holding on without loosening his tight grip on the other's member.
Just as he had begun to lick more blood off Lovino there was a feint noise echoing from downstairs. At first he continued, but the noise became more prominent. Growling slightly as the mood had been killed, he removed himself from the stunned Italian and stomped downstairs, apparent that he was extremely mad for the interruption.
Lovino remained there after Spain had left, confused and frozen in place. He wasn't entirely sure what to think of the situation, other than feeling violated. His chest twanged in pain as he heard the conquistador yelling downstairs. That was a sound that made him shudder. He almost wondered who he was yelling at, but wasn't ever going to bother asking. He'd learned his lesson never to question Antonio to his face. That just led to him being 'punished'.
He slowly sat up in a shaken manner, wrapping his arms around his knees, looking to the ground. The yelling was starting to fade, which hopefully meant that Antonio had calmed down. He glanced out the window to see Spain and another man walking away from the house. The business must have been urgent if they left right away like that. Lovino was glad that he left, which meant he didn't have to deal with being violated again.
Romano hopped off the bed after noticing his chest still bleeding, making his way to the wash basin, dampening a cloth so he could clean his wound.
"Fuck!" He recoiled after hardly touching the wound. "D…Damn that Spanish bastard!" He continued to clean himself, but not really having any remaining energy. He felt completely disgusted with Antonio for doing that to him. He was more disgusted with himself for letting it happen, though…letting himself be touched there. Once his wound was clean he took an anxious glance back at Antonio's bed. It no longer seemed to be a place of comfort anymore- He wouldn't be able to sleep there without feeling distraught in some way. From now on, to avoid any more mishaps like the one he had just encountered, he would sleep in his own room. Like hell if he'd ever sleep with Spain again.
Wordlessly he exited the room and found his way into his own. It had been a long while since the last time he had entered his own room. While Spain was off in the new world he completely abandoned this place. Most of his clothes had been moved into the older country's room. He hadn't seen much of this stuff in well over a year. He sat on his bed, which wasn't half as comfortable as the other, but he didn't care. He could handle the discomfort. It was better than being debased by Spain.
xXXXXXXXx
Lovino hadn't left his room for the rest of the day. He found no point in it. He wasn't hungry and he had no energy to do anything else but lay in his room. His brain was on a sort of overload because of the whole 'violated' thing. At the moment he didn't even care where Spain had gone, and technically that other man had saved him from whatever Spain had had planned. And he didn't really want to know what it was. Who knew what kind of sadistic things ran through the mind of that idiot nowadays. He wasn't even his idiot anymore. That… thing that he saw every day didn't even deserve a name. That monster was not Antonio in any shape or form. He refused to believe that he was.
From his bed he glanced out the window at the amber dimness of the dying Spanish sun. It almost made him miss his own country… almost. Italy was a beautiful place, but living with his brother was wearisome. Feliciano was the biggest idiot he'd had the displeasure of knowing. It was hard to believe he was half of that country. The little moron could hardly take care of himself without getting into some kind of stupid problem. Although, was that really bad compared to how Spain acted?
He sighed as he saw Antonio walk up the dirt road back to his home. Cringing from the sight of the seemingly 'innocent' Spaniard, Lovino backed away from the window to lie on his bed again. He knew better than to go greet the asshole. Who knew what he'd do to him. He listened as Spain's footsteps passed by his room. That was good. Maybe he wouldn't notice there was a certain Italian missing from his bed. Lovino closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep at last. He was tired from thinking continuously about what had happened that day- He just needed the rest.
Just when Romano thought he was safe, nestled in his bed, there was a slow creaking noise from the door to his room, the Italian becoming frigidly still. His heart began to race as the footsteps he knew only as Spain's treaded closer and closer to his bed. Lovino tried to act as if he was asleep, but he was scared. He held his breath as the sound of footsteps faded beside his bed. He was hoping with all his might that Antonio would just leave.
He shrank back a bit as Spain's body made its way onto his bed, already leering over him. He tensed as he felt the conquistador's hand reach over to clutch the blanket that was draped over his head, without hesitation stripping the blanket from over the fear stricken country, tossing it to the side. Much to Lovino's dismay he fiercely grasped him by the shoulders and turned him over on the bed so now he was lying face down. He yelped as his wounded chest was forced harshly on the bed.
"GODDAMMIT SPAIN!" He yelled, even though he knew that was a very poor idea.
He heard a low growl from the Spaniard above him. Lovi was almost glad that it was too dark to see his face. A sharp pain came from his head as the bastard pulled it back by his hair again. His face was right next to his, lips touching his ear as he spoke.
"No more interruptions," He whispered, letting the lad's hair go and proceeding to kiss his neck, grinning when he felt him shudder. Soon after, he turned his attention to his pants, slidding his hands off so he could reach back to grab onto the young man's trousers. With a brisk tug he already had his pants halfway down. Romano began to struggle,
"What the fuck are you doing? Get the fuck off me now!" He yelled, but sounding less than intimidating. He attempted to turn around so he could kick off the bastard, but the other was holding him down too hard. He was much weaker when placed facedown like that, and he could tell Spain was grinning like no other at the moment, especially when he completely pulled his pants off. Lovino yelped again when he copped a feel at his exposed ass.
"D…Don't!" He whined angrily.
He could hear a soft chuckle emit from the other country's chest. He was not going to stop it seemed. Lovino arched his back to try to glare back at him but was soon pushed down, earning a little more pain from his wound again.
Both the Spaniard's hands abruptly snaked their way back down to his ass. He shrieked as his hands lodged themselves in between his legs, beginning to spread them apart. Lovino tried to lock his legs back together in a panic. He didn't understand what he was going to do to him, but he knew it wasn't anything he wanted.
"Spain, don't!" He droned uneasily.
The other merely retorted with a laugh. Keeping himself between the boy's legs to keep them spread, he advanced to the now parting Lovino's ass. It was hard because he was so tense, but rapidly he took hold of his waist and pulled him up with trouble. Romano tried to be glued to the bed as best he could. The younger country was clutching onto the sheets for dear life as his body was propped up into a position he preferred not to be in. Spain was still looming over him, holding onto him, tightly preventing all means of escape. He sat up more promptly, getting into position behind the confused Italian.
By now Lovino had finally figured out what Spain was trying to do to him. He couldn't get out of his grasp but he could probably struggle just enough to get himself free. He quickly sat all the way up so his body wasn't bent over, making him less vulnerable back there. He reared is arm back, elbowing his assailant in the face. When Spain finally let go due to the pain he bounded off the bed. Unfortunately, the Spaniard was swift to recover. He leapt right after the Italian, tackling him to the ground.
In a rage he turned Lovino onto his back this time, set himself between the young man's legs, and struck him across the right side of his face. His fury was beyond compare as he no longer did anything slowly. He spread his legs wide and without any further ado thrust himself into the poor Italian.
After that point everything seemed to go hazy for Lovino. He could remember moaning and screaming for him to stop so many times, but the rest was almost like one horrible yet swift nightmare. He was being violated in the worst way possible.
When Spain finally felt the need to stop he took himself out of the younger country, smirking intently. He didn't even care that there were tears streaming down the Italian's face because of this. Leaning over him, he lifted the cross medallion that was lying slightly askew next to the boy's head. He elevated it up to his face and kissed it, then clutched it tightly in his grasp.
"You see this?" He grinned malevolently at his ward. "This is a symbol showing the entire world that you are mine and mine alone. Make sure you take note of that. You are never to defy me again." After those last few words Spain finally let himself completely off Lovino. He left, content to know that he'd taught him a lesson.
Lovino sat up blankly for a second. He couldn't stop the tears from falling. Curling up in a corner and hugging his knees for dear life he cried harder. He didn't know how much longer he could stand staying in a house with such a monster as Spain. He didn't want to stay anymore, but was now too terrified to leave. How could he have let this happen? How could he have let himself be soiled by a monster?